Displaying items by tag: Brian Parry

“Strange Cargo: The Doom of the Demeter,” is a compelling proposition for a stage play. Now in its world premiere in a Black Button production with City Lit Theater, Timothy Griffin’s original two-act script draws on Chapter 7 of Bram Stoker's novel “Dracula,”  .

That chapter in the book “Dracula” is sparse on details. It opens with the crash of the Demeter into the wharf in Whitby, England, with no one found alive on board (This is the point in time where Griffin's play ends.) The book chapter is mostly filled with details of the ship’s route and descriptions of weather—but salted with incidental references to a crew growing demoralized, brought on by unexplained disappearances of their fellow sailors as the month-long journey from Varna, Russia to Whitby, progresses.

The minimal details in the book gives the playwright free rein to fill in things not described in the Demeter’s log—ostensibly translated hastily from Russian for a journalist in Whitby, who is the narrator of the chapter.

Playwright Griffin adds in the tale of Yorga (Herb Metzler is compellingly sinister and cloyingly evil), as he transits from Transylvania in Eastern Europe to England, accompanying his “strange cargo.” In Griffin’s telling, it lists on the ship’s manifest as “50 sealed crates of earth” but we suspect it also carries something more wicked.

Some disambiguation may be in order here: in “Strange Cargo,” Yorga appears to be either a ghoul who acts as consigliere for Dracula, who perhaps is sealed in one of the crates in the hold? We’re uncertain. The Yorga character does not appear in the book “Dracula,” but was created for a 1970 Dracula film, so the playwright may be giving a nod to that piece.

Directed by Ed Rutherford, “Strange Cargo” opens as the crew of the Demeter confront a last minute booking on the Russian cargo ship arranged by Yorga, who wrangles space for the crates of not fully disclosed contents. The audience might suspect (it isn’t explicitly revealed in the play)—and those familiar with the Stokers’ tale or its recent depiction in Robert Eggers’ 2024 film “Nosferatu”—this cargo is the necessary support for an unknown entity who remains sealed for the journey, at least most of the time.

Though the steward Abramoff (Andrew Bosworth in a very good performance) objects there are no cabins or food for civilian passengers, Yorga makes the case he needs little, that he carries his own victuals, and is willing to bunk in the hold with his cargo. Grateful for the business, Captain Gorodetsky (Brian Parry is strikingly good) signs off after it’s already loaded, and Yorga is doubtless hanging from a nearby beam by this time.

Much of Griffin’s script focuses on the life of the crew and the minutiae of operations, mind-numbingly so at least to my mind, but filled with realism. As the ship makes its way through the month-long journey - supratitles periodically tracking the day count and maps of its progress - the Demeter must put in mid journey for a customs inspection in Turkey. A variety of other nautical events recounted in Stoker’s book are dutifully recounted by Griffin, to the detriment of the audience’s interest.

What the playwright does accomplish, furthered by very good performances, is the establishment of memorable characters: Guza (Jennifer Agather), Basarab (Alex Albrecht), Digeren (Riles August Holiday), Munir (Cameron Austin Brown), Bucatar (Ross Compton), Post (Robert Howard), and Petrofsky (Nathaniel Kohlmeier). Thus as these characters one by one meet their unhappy fates in the next act, we know who they are. 

When Act II opens the play takes a more sinister turn, and crew members start disappearing regularly. So frequently does this happens that it becomes tedious, and repetitious. “Captain!” shout various crewmembers in repeated scenes of alarm, and Captain Gorodetsky is forever being warned that individual sailors have fallen into depressive stupors. After each of these warnings he promises to “keep an eye on him.” Sailors on watch simply disappear nearly nightly, which Gorodetsky addresses by searching the ship from stem to stern.

But the action warms up as the Demeter finally reaches the English coast, crossing the Channel and navigating in the final events that lead to the decimated ship reaching port. Monstrous puppetry and silhouettes of terror-filled action below decks bring a culmination to the show.

The excellence of the performances outshine the meager script. And Brian Parry, an acting powerhouse, manages to stabilize the production with the weight of his performance. Some software-driven technical glitches opening night were rapidly set right, so no complaints should be lodged on that score. But the repetitiveness of the loathsome sufferings inflicted on the crew detracted from the effect the playwright doubtless intended. With some script polishing, this has the makings of a great recurring seasonal show for Halloween. And overall it’s still fun to watch.

“Strange Cargo: The Doom of the Demeter” runs through November 23 at City Lit Theater in Chicago.

There’s nothing new about Antigone. Sophocles wrote it in 440BC, and we all read it (under duress) in high school, my most vivid memory of which is Mrs. Thatcher printing ‘ANTIGONE’ on the chalkboard, and Patrick Tyrrell sneaking up to print ‘P’ at the beginning. Recent adaptations have used Antigone to comment on The Patriot Act; have styled the dead Polynices as a terrorist threat and Antigone into a "dangerous subversive;" and as a commentary on the shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri.

Today, Redtwist Theatre presents a new translation by Anne Carlson, whose “light-fingered, colloquial and cutting” language provides a fresh view of Greek tragedy in the twenty-first century. Her translation makes the entire production not only accessible but topical.

The story is simple. Antigone is sister to Eteocles and Polynices, who led opposing sides in Thebes' civil war and died fighting each other for the throne. Kreon, king of Thebes decrees that Eteocles will be honored while the rebel brother Polynices lies unsanctified on the battlefield. Antigone defies the edict,buries her brother, and argues the immorality of the edict and the morality of her own actions.

Kreon remains intransigent until blind Tiresias prophesies that all of Greece will despise him. Urged on by the terrified Chorus, Kreon finally relents. Too late, of course: Antigone has hanged herself and a grieving Haemon attacks Kreon, then slays himself. Kreon, beside himself with remorse, then learns his wife Eurydice has killed herself. Kreon, a broken man, stumbles away.

So many of the themes portrayed in Antigone speak directly to 2022. It exposes the dangers of the absolute ruler, a king to whom few will speak their true opinions freely and openly– does that ring any bells? Civil disobedience is a major theme: the individual’s right to reject society's infringement on her freedom to perform a personal obligation. Certainly SCOTUS would do well to reflect on this.  Citizenship is also at issue: Kreon holds that citizenship is a contract, and Polynices’ attack on the city revokes his citizenship. For Kreon, as absolute ruler of the state, loyalty to the state comes before family fealty. He is punished by Haemon killing himself when he finds Antigone dead.

Redtwist Theatre is a tiny storefront venue that takes advantage of its close quarters by inviting the audience into the action. Director Christine Freije extends this – at first I thought the various people sweeping the floor and wiping the walls were … I don’t know, maybe being extra-careful about covid cleanliness? until Antigone arrests them by slamming her shovel into the ground.

Antigone, played by Isabel Alamin, beautifully portrays the deeply-committed and doomed woman. When she’s onstage one sees nobody else. Natalie Welber, as her sister Ismene, demonstrates the ambivalence of a law-abiding citizen wrenched from her comfort zone by love of family. Brian Parry paints the spectrum from Kreon’s monarchical obstinacy to the anguish of a bereaved father and husband, and Nick Shank’s Haemon ably depicts filial love eroding under Kreon’s stubbornness. Peter Ferneding brings a welcome injection of humor as Guard. As so often in Greek theatre, Chorus has a big role, and Andrew Bosworth as its leader keeps the story woven together. The remainder of the Chorus played additional roles: Joan Nahid [Euridice], Peter Ferneding [Guard], Maddy Moderhack [Messenger] and Javier Carmona [Teiresias] slid effortlessly from one role to another.

I can’t wait another minute to praise Costume Designer Anna Bodell! I do some sewing myself, and I have to admit I was occasionally diverted from the play’s action by trying to figure out: what is he wearing? and how did she do that?!  Ordinary clothes are pieced together in extraordinary ways, with stunning results.

The stark simplicity of the set and economy of props keeps our focus on the performances, while light and sound preclude a curtain. Director Christine Freije knits it all together seamlessly – and all is made possible by Anne Carlson’s fresh translation.

I loved Antigone – I may go see it again!

"Attention must be paid," Arthur Miller pleads in his Pulitzer Prize winning play "Death of a Salesman." What is now required reading, "Death of a Salesman" asks its audience to consider the worth of one pathetic old man. The play debuted in 1949, at a time when America was coming out of a war and questioning the value of personal fulfillment. For that theme alone this play will always be relevant. 

The intimate space at Redtwist Theatre makes for an overwhelming experience. In many of the scenes there's an almost voyeuristic feel. As if you're in someone's living room listening to something you shouldn't. Director Steve Scott uses this atmospheric effect to create a palpable intensity. After the lights go out on the final scene, an audience gasped in unison. 

Brian Parry delivers a powerhouse performance as Willy Loman. Both tough and weak at the same time. His Loman is still feisty, making the ending all the more tragic. Jan Ellen Graves' Linda Loman is played calm and collected and rarely sentimental, but lively when the moment is right. Matt Edmonds gives a standout performance as Biff. There are such revelations in Edmonds' interpretation. 

Like Tennessee Williams and Eugene O'Neill, Arthur Miller knew America. He knew the sad and melancholic ways average people live. "Death of a Salesman" should make us uncomfortable. We should bristle at the idea of one average man getting used up and thrown away. It's a warning that if you don't take control of your own destiny, society will toss you aside. Willy Loman skirts through life on quick fixes and delusions. In a way, all of us are Willy Loman and Miller asks us to look beyond the superficial. As "On the Road" had also inspired a younger generation to live life differently than their parents, so does "Death of a Salesman." The moral here is that nobody wants to end up as Willy Loman. 

Through March 5 at Redtwist Theatre. 1044 W BrynMawr 773-728-7529

www.Redtwist.org 

What can be said about a play as often produced as 'Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?' With every company that takes on this landmark play, a new audience is given the opportunity to spend an electrifying evening with George and Martha. As legend has it, Mr. Albee is quite stringent about his work and demands absolute faithfulness to his scripts for fear of being shut down.

It would be impossible not to consider the Steppenwolf's 2010 Tony Award winning revival of 'Virginia Woolf' when discussing Chicago's relationship with this play. Any theatre company producing this play will rightfully have some serious competition. Though, under Jason Gerace's direction at Redtwist Theatre, you wouldn’t know it.

What Gerace and Redtwist have in their favor is an intimate performance space. For nearly three hours the audience sits among the living room furniture at George and Martha's. When the drinks slosh and the one-liners fly, it’s the audience who must shift to avoid getting hit. To that end, this highly atmospheric production feels more alive and certainly more first-hand. This is not an easy script to decipher, each line is almost a world onto itself, and it can be easy to zone out in the recesses of a large theatre. Here, the dialog seems very navigable, so as the intensity heats up it seems to unfold naturally.

Given the challenge of such intricate language, there's an inherent sense of staginess. Its sense of reality is thereby heightened by exceedingly articulate dialog. Jacqueline Grandt's Martha is just plain mean and the way she slithers through her cutting monologues is almost scary. Though her glimmers of fragility in such subtle gestures as watering eyes and quivering lip are hauntingly tragic. It underscores the character's emotional instability. Brian Parry plays George as the co-dependent husband who has reached his breaking point. The calm timbre of his voice never loses it's comforting sound even as he's putting the finishing touches on Martha and their guests. He's able to play it in the way that these characters get exactly what's coming to them. His triumph is very satisfying.

The parts of Nick and Honey can honestly be what makes or breaks this play. Their characters are largely only there to fuel the fire. Elizabeth Argus is pretty spot-on as Honey. Her look brings to mind Elaine from "The Graduate" and when she's called upon in a moment of dark revelation, she delivers. It's not easy to play fake drunk without coming off as a cartoon character. Argus is very believable as she stumbles through glass after glass of brandy.

Redtwist Theatre has a very competent production on their hands. Grandt and Parry really understand their lines and because of that, both turn in rich performances that quickly cut through the melodrama. The artistic staff at Redtwist has also made this production pleasing to the eye in costume and set design. If you need another night with George and Martha, this is a storefront revival not to be missed.

Through October 11th at Redtwist Theatre. 1044 W Bryn Mawr. 773-728-7529